[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/NYrpWli.png[/img]
[@Silvan Haven][@Crimmy][@Write][@Plank Sinatra][/center]

[b]"Sure,"[/b] I replied, rolling up a sleeve. [b]"Just need the needle to draw out my..."[/b]

Or, actually.

There was a much more viable alternative to the slight pinprick that a little sewing needle would provide. I heal extraordinarily fast, and a wound that small would probably vanish in the rough ballpark of a second. Maybe a second and a half on a slow, lazy day.

The point being that asking for the needle was an exercise in inefficiency. I needed something more deadly, as it happened. Sharper, and capable breaking more skin and blood vessel than a simple needle pricking the thumb.

My eyes broke from the leery, injured, and glowy-haired boy that was currently clutching his side and fell upon the answer at Gratia's hip.

[b]"Actually, instead of the needle, do you mind if I borrow the sword again? It'll be a lot faster."[/b]

Wordlessly, she slid the sabre out of its scabbard and presented it to me hilt-first with a look that gave me a good idea of what she would have said normally. 

[i]I don't give a damn if you cut yourself on my edge, just get it done.[/i]

...Well, I might have paraphrased a bit, but that was the general vibe I got.

[b]"Thank you."[/b]

I ran the blade across my palm and grit my teeth. The downside of having a weapon draw my blood instead of a needle was obvious. Needles pricking hurt you less than the slice of a sword damn near universally.

Granted, it was far better than what our mysterious friend with the gauntlet must be going through. Having a chunk taken out of your side was debilitating in the extreme for most people. It was a miracle he could even muster movement at all, let alone attempt to stand.

Trust me, I knew. This guy was tough.

Stepping forward, I addressed him directly for the first time.

[b]"Hand off the wound, please."[/b]